Readers are always wanting to know more about me, Bruce Willis…the other Bruce Willis in the Consignment Shop Mysteries.
Once upon a time I didn’t have such a great life so I ran away and took up living under Reagan Summerside’s front porch. Don’t know why I chose her. Maybe because at the moment Reagan’s life sucked almost as much as mine.
But she’s an okay gal, even shared her McNuggets and fries with me but kept the martinis all to herself. I mean to tell you I could have done with a martini or two on these hot summer nights.
Reagan has a consignment shop on the first floor of her half-restored Victorian. She and her Auntie KiKi who lives next door were going to name me Calvin Klein to fit in with the upscale clothes she takes in. One look at my mangled left ear, crooked tail and scared snout not to mention my questionable linage and they knew I was much better suited as Bruce Willis.
Life is good right now. Reagan says I’m the worse watchdog on the planet but I sure do make a lot of friends. If I fake a limp I can usually finesse a cookie or two from the customers and if I sit in front of the fridge long enough I get my daily dog…hot dog that is.
Reagan and I just celebrated our one year together in Demise In Denim. She bought me McNuggets again. She also tried to talk me into doing the laundry…fat chance that.
Life as the other Bruce Willis isn’t half bad. Mostly I snooze in the shade and maybe one day I can get a slurp of Reagan’s peach martini.